


fake snow & flower petals

by yuejunnie



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, i think, it’s 2 am and im too awake for this, jinho-centric, road to kingdom inspired, that shine&spring snow performance got me feeling things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24487429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuejunnie/pseuds/yuejunnie
Summary: jinho doesn’t want to leave.but his enlistment date is approaching, a black cloud hovering over the horizon of his imminent future with pentagon.he knows he has to do his duty, to serve the country he is ultimately proud to live in, but knowing this doesn’t make accepting any easier.and he wants, wants, wants,but he cannot have.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	fake snow & flower petals

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this a while ago after i watched that rtk episode (y’all know which one) and CRIED  
> this one’s for jinho :’(

jinho doesn’t want to leave.

he’s never been religious, but he closes his eyes, prays to any and every deity out there to extend his time with his groupmates, _even just one day,_ _ please,  _ _i just want to be with them for a little bit longer._ but it’s too late, his enlistment date is approaching, a black cloud hovering over the horizon of his imminent future with pentagon.

he knows he has to do his duty, to serve the country he is ultimately proud to live in, but knowing this doesn’t make accepting any easier.

he wants to wake up to shinwon and wooseok’s shrieks, eat the breakfast hongseok makes for all of them, chopstick-fighting with the others over the best parts. wants to stomp into the practice room with his bandmates, pretending like they’re soldiers reporting for duty— _ ouch, a little too real, that one _ —and let loose all his worries and negative thoughts in favor of just  dancing and messing around with his members. hell, at this point he would even gladly undertake the task of dragging hui out of his studio.

he wants to spend eternity by the side of these boys, wants to keep them with him every single second of his life, wants to wake up to their yells and drift off to sleep with their humming and—

and he wants, wants, wants, 

but he cannot have.

so the timer ticks down as jinho swallows his fear to face another day in the pentagon dorm. the black cloud hovers as he takes his time making his bed, savors each bite of hongseok’s cooking, brings out his phone to record his members fooling around in the practice rooms. and maybe the members hear it too, _tick tick tick_ , because if they notice his odd behavior they don’t comment on it.

and then the timer runs out, ten nineeightsevensix five four threetwoone:

his last stage.

—

the performance starts off without a hitch. he still has to bite back a laugh at their rock-paper-scissors antics, even after all the practices they did with it, and hopes it doesn’t come off as  too dorky. he loses himself in trying to properly maneuver his suitcase, because even though he’s practiced with it, it’s still hard to control. he feels disconnected, somehow, like his consciousness is drifting away, frozen in the vacuum of space, while he belts out high notes and dances to their song.

he loses himself in the performance and lets his body do the work, muscle memory kicking in from all the hours they spent practicing.

but then kino’s waving at him, soft, sad smile on his face. he’s alone. he starts talking, and then— _what? we didn’t practice this_ —he sees his members’ faces appear, one by one, on the screen. they’re laughing, crying, wishing him the best. promising to remember him.

so yeah, he cries.

he must blank out for a second, because he blinks and then his members are back, rushing onto stage, talking to him, gathering by his side and squeezing him _a little too tight_ but he lets them, grounds himself in the feeling of his members right by his side. hands are squeezing his and a shoulder is slung over his back and he’s surrounded in this little bubble, safe and untouchable in his members’ arms. they’re crying, too, he notes distantly, and inside his chest his heart clenches, because he doesn’t want them to cry; he wants them to be  happy.

the music starts again. he’s still crying. there’s fake snow and flower petals raining down on them, his members are around him, and  _this is the last time be with them performing like this in a while_. wooseok lifts him up onto his back, runs in circles, and they laugh-cry together. and then, one by one, his members join him as they walk down the stage.

then the music’s gone, and he’s slumped on a bench, head on yuto’s shoulder, hui’s arm slung over his shoulders, wooseok’s hand gently patting his back, and everyone’s crying and smiling and  _it’s over too soon_. 

it’s over.

but, as they drag themselves off the stage and into their rehearsal room, he remembers what they sang, keeps the phrase in his head and holds onto it like it’s a lifeline: “ _it will come back_.”

**Author's Note:**

> AaAAAA i hope y’all enjoyed :’))) hopefully this didnt bring up too much sadness from the performance i still lose it every time i watch—
> 
> come cry/scream with me on twt or insta @yuejunnie :)
> 
> EDIT: AAAAA PTG FIRST WIN AND YANAN IS BACK I AM  
> NOT OK   
> AJDBFJFBKNFGJ IT IS TIME TO CRY


End file.
